History of Henry IV, Part I

Henry V. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack
and unbuttoning thee after supper and sleeping upon
benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to
115demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know.
What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the
day? Unless hours were cups of sack and minutes
capons and clocks the tongues of bawds and dials the
signs of leaping-houses and the blessed sun himself
120a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta, I see no
reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand
the time of the day.

Falstaff. Indeed, you come near me now, Hal; for we that take
purses go by the moon and the seven stars, and not
125by Phoebus, he,'that wandering knight so fair.' And,
I prithee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as, God
save thy grace,—majesty I should say, for grace
thou wilt have none,—

Falstaff. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not
us that are squires of the night's body be called
135thieves of the day's beauty: let us be Diana's
foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the
moon; and let men say we be men of good government,
being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and
chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal.
140

Henry V. Thou sayest well, and it holds well too; for the
fortune of us that are the moon's men doth ebb and
flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is,
by the moon. As, for proof, now: a purse of gold
most resolutely snatched on Monday night and most
145dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with
swearing 'Lay by' and spent with crying 'Bring in;'
now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder
and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows.

Falstaff. By the Lord, thou sayest true, lad. And is not my
150hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench?

Henry V. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And
is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance?

Falstaff. How now, how now, mad wag! what, in thy quips and
thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a
155buff jerkin?

Henry V. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch;
and where it would not, I have used my credit.

Falstaff. Yea, and so used it that were it not here apparent
that thou art heir apparent—But, I prithee, sweet
165wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when
thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is
with the rusty curb of old father antic the law? Do
not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief.

Falstaff. Thou hast the most unsavoury similes and art indeed
185the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young
prince. But, Hal, I prithee, trouble me no more
with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew where a
commodity of good names were to be bought. An old
lord of the council rated me the other day in the
190street about you, sir, but I marked him not; and yet
he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not; and
yet he talked wisely, and in the street too.

Henry V. Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the
streets, and no man regards it.
195

Falstaff. O, thou hast damnable iteration and art indeed able
to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon
me, Hal; God forgive thee for it! Before I knew
thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man
should speak truly, little better than one of the
200wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give
it over: by the Lord, and I do not, I am a villain:
I'll be damned for never a king's son in
Christendom.

Falstaff. 'Zounds, where thou wilt, lad; I'll make one; an I
do not, call me villain and baffle me.

Henry V. I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying
to purse-taking.

Falstaff. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a
210man to labour in his vocation.
[Enter POINS]Poins! Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a
match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what
hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the
215most omnipotent villain that ever cried 'Stand' to
a true man.

Edward Poins. Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse?
what says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Jack! how
220agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou
soldest him on Good-Friday last for a cup of Madeira
and a cold capon's leg?

Henry V. Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have
his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of
225proverbs: he will give the devil his due.

Edward Poins. Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil.

Edward Poins. But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four
o'clock, early at Gadshill! there are pilgrims going
230to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders
riding to London with fat purses: I have vizards
for you all; you have horses for yourselves:
Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester: I have bespoke
supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap: we may do it
235as secure as sleep. If you will go, I will stuff
your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry
at home and be hanged.

Falstaff. Hear ye, Yedward; if I tarry at home and go not,
I'll hang you for going.
240

Edward Poins. Sir John, I prithee, leave the prince and me alone:
I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure
that he shall go.

Falstaff. Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion and him
255the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may
move and what he hears may be believed, that the
true prince may, for recreation sake, prove a false
thief; for the poor abuses of the time want
countenance. Farewell: you shall find me in Eastcheap.
260

Edward Poins. Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us
to-morrow: I have a jest to execute that I cannot
manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto and Gadshill
265shall rob those men that we have already waylaid:
yourself and I will not be there; and when they
have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut
this head off from my shoulders.

Edward Poins. Why, we will set forth before or after them, and
appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at
our pleasure to fail, and then will they adventure
upon the exploit themselves; which they shall have
no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them.
275

Henry V. Yea, but 'tis like that they will know us by our
horses, by our habits and by every other
appointment, to be ourselves.

Edward Poins. Tut! our horses they shall not see: I'll tie them
in the wood; our vizards we will change after we
280leave them: and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram
for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments.

Edward Poins. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as
true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the
285third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll
forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the
incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will
tell us when we meet at supper: how thirty, at
least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what
290extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this
lies the jest.

Henry V. I know you all, and will awhile uphold
The unyoked humour of your idleness:
Yet herein will I imitate the sun,
300Who doth permit the base contagious clouds
To smother up his beauty from the world,
That, when he please again to be himself,
Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at,
By breaking through the foul and ugly mists
305Of vapours that did seem to strangle him.
If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work;
But when they seldom come, they wish'd for come,
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
310So, when this loose behavior I throw off
And pay the debt I never promised,
By how much better than my word I am,
By so much shall I falsify men's hopes;
And like bright metal on a sullen ground,
315My reformation, glittering o'er my fault,
Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes
Than that which hath no foil to set it off.
I'll so offend, to make offence a skill;
Redeeming time when men think least I will.
320